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Lawrence, D. H. (David Herbert), 1885-1930

"Twilight in Italy"

It was
something of the purely physical world, as a magnetized needle swings
towards soft iron. He was quite helpless in the relation. Only by
mechanical attraction he gravitated into line with us.
But there was nothing between us except our complete difference. It was
like night and day flowing together.

_7_
JOHN

Besides Il Duro, we found another Italian who could speak English, this
time quite well. We had walked about four or five miles up the lake,
getting higher and higher. Then quite suddenly, on the shoulder of a
bluff far up, we came on a village, icy cold, and as if forgotten.
We went into the inn to drink something hot. The fire of olive sticks
was burning in the open chimney, one or two men were talking at a table,
a young woman with a baby stood by the fire watching something boil in a
large pot. Another woman was seen in the house-place beyond.
In the chimney-seats sat a young mule-driver, who had left his two mules
at the door of the inn, and opposite him an elderly stout man. They got
down and offered us the seats of honour, which we accepted with
due courtesy.


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